Impersonal
by Possumfox
Summary: Late night private records of the Yagami House Observation. Can L remain professional while watching such a beautiful specimin? LxLight Yaoi :D
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Okay, this was something that just kinda popped into my head about a week ago, so please forgive me for it's shoddiness. I know it's not nearly as good as my other stories.

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Yagami House Observation - Day 1 (Private Notes)

Even at home, do you not want to make yourself comfortable? I can see your shirt sticking to your back, & your arms; the thin layer of sweat on the back of your neck as you sit under that lamp doing your studies. Your mother urged you to go to bed nearly an hour ago. Overworking yourself might lead to sickness.

Watari didn't shirk at all on the price of these cameras. I can see the muscles in your shoulders moving with every pencil stroke. Watching you is very dislocating; like looking at an entirely different world. Do you know? No, of course you don't, that would be an absurdly keen observation.

All you do is sit there with your books; how is it, then, that you are so much more intriguing than the rest of your family? The other families I am observing? Is it the mystery? Your young allure? This could become a late-night addiction of mine. Quite unprofessional of me.

There's something in the way you move. It's very cat-like; smooth, like a silent hunter, though hunting nothing. Even when you hesitate, I find myself drawn into that contemplative look on your face, those golden eyes that contrast so well with the rest of the Japanese populace. You undress so slowly, glancing at your window, even though the blinds have been shut for hours. You lie with the covers down around your waist, your bare chest exposed to the warm air that flows from the air vent that contains the very camera I'm watching you on.

Are you trying to entice me, Raito?


	2. Chapter 2

Yagami House Observation - Day 2 (Private Records)

So shameless. You barely hide those magazines. Why? You're a very bright lad, and attractive; why no girlfriend? Surely you have time to see someone, though I could be mistaken. You don't seem all that lustful, regardless.

Lying there on your side, fully clothed, magazine sprawled in front of you. Do those girls really appea to you? I can tell, by the way you slowly, barely stroke your crotch through your slacks, that you aren't horribly enthusiastic. It isn't surprising that you only turn a few pages before putting the explicit material back on the shelf with your countless other books.

I can tell the house is quiet as I follow you across the monitors, watching that pride-filled walk of yours. Even when you think no one is watching, you retain a regal air about you; you have that commanding stare. If I could only meet you, see that face in person, have those beautiful amber eyes focused on me...

Never before have I had trouble being professional, but you... You're something else. It's like your entire life at home is but a show for your adoring audience of one. I should be watching your mother, father, sister, the other families, but my eyes can't leave your smooth, flawless chest as the hot shower beats down on you. Some may call putting cameras in the bathroom "perverted", but a good detective must be thorough in his investigations.

However, I suppose at times like this, it is a bit perverted of me. Watching you, unconsciously my hand follows yours, mimicking the way you stroke yourself. I can feel the pre-cum building beneath the fabric of my jeans as I watch your hand travel down. You draw things out to a point of near extremity; by the time your fingers wrap around your tool, I already feel I'm going to burst. Is that how you feel as well? Do you do it on purpose?

I suppose what I'm doing is illegal, but Watari is currently not around to scold me. The control room air is thick in my lungs as I undo my fly, eyes still glued to the spectacle you're offering me. I can only wonder where your imagination is taking you. I imagine being there with you, though, as my hand continues to match yours; stroke for stroke, only a small bead of pre-cum as lubricant.

The way you go so slow is such a tease, but the way your fingers have that perfect mix of strength and grace, it keeps me from stopping. My groin aches as you increase your speed, my eyes trace the curve of your back as you press your free hand to the shower wall for support. Your eyes are closed now, but your face is still so expressive.

Your strokes seem a bit more desperate now; wild and fast, rough... I find myself losing control, my body frozen as wave after wave of pleasure courses through me. My hips buck and I can't stop myself from releasing into my hand. I look back at the screen in time to see your seed being washed away by the shower. If only you knew of the moment we shared. Would it disgust you? Or would it excite you, the way it excites me?

I wish this didn't have to end.


	3. Chapter 3

Yagami House Observation - Day 3 (Private Records)

I missed you today. Your mother is very uninteresting alone. She cleans, then watches TV until your sister comes home. Then comes the animated, but empty, chatter. Perhaps it would be interesting to me if I were a woman.

I've been pondering excuses to meet you; just to get a glimpse of you in person. Bad ideas, all of them. It's just as well; absence makes the heart grow fonder. Not that hearts have anything to do with forbidden lust, of course.

You're sleeping early tonight; a little disheartening, I must admit, but enjoyable none-the-less. I can pretend I am there with you; imagine touching the soft skin of your chest; those small, seemingly untouched nipples. My thoughts of you have been growing out of hand. Seeing you exposed like this, so vulnerable... I turn the monitors off.

Watari can take over.


	4. Chapter 4

Yagami House Observation - Day 4 (Private Records)

Calculus flows endlessly from your pencil. Always the same problems, just different numbers, and pages of work. I admire how diligently you focus on your work, always studying. You remind me of myself so many years ago. I don't tend to think of myself as old, though watching you ar your desk tends to make me feel that way.

You never hesitate when you write; it must be so easy for you, but you still keep at it. Perhaps doing anything else bores you? Are you afraid you'll forget? I find that television is uninteresting; you must feel the same, or you wouldn't spend so much time doing this.

I should like to pit your skills against mind one day, if we meet. Perhaps throw in a friendly wager. But that's thinking a little too far ahead for now, afterall, you might be Kira. It seems a bit unlikely, but I can't write off the chance. Besides, if I declared you innocent, I couldn't watch you anymore.


End file.
